


Flinch

by storyspinner70



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Dom Jared, Dom/sub, Impact Play, M/M, Past Abuse, Sub Jensen Ackles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 10:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21492979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyspinner70/pseuds/storyspinner70
Summary: Jared had a good life - a great job, a beautiful home, great friends - but it was missing something very important. Jensen. Gorgeous, wary, hurting Jensen. Whether it was as his friend, his sub, or something in between, Jared knew Jensen was what had been missing all along. He could only hope that Jensen felt the same.Written for the 2019 SPN Reversebang.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87
Collections: 2019 Supernatural Reversebang Challenge





	Flinch

**Art Title: **What Will You Offer Me?  
Prompt Number: R1001  
Artist: [JDL71](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jld71/pseuds/Jld71/works)

**A/N:** Enormous thanks to my amazing artist for the outstanding work! Go, go, go...you can click on their name above for a link to all their work, or [GO HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21482467) to show them love for the specific (and awesome) work for this story. Just don't forget to come back and check out our story too! I don't usually do top!Jared, just so you know. I was really intrigued by the art and jdl71's idea for the story, so I decided to tackle it anyway. Hopefully, I've done it at least some kind of justice. 

** **FLINCH** **

Jared didn’t have much to complain about, really. He had an amazing job, a great family and a couple wonderful dogs. If there was anything in his life he could fuss about at all, it would be his love life.

Jared had struggled with the things he wanted for many years. He’d had wonderful partners; that was never the problem. The problem was the dissatisfaction he felt during those relationships. He’d analyze his relationships to death to try to figure out why - doing his best to look objectively - and there was never anything obviously wrong with any of his relationships.

They were open and communicative and they were all healthy and satisfying liaisons. Except Jared wasn’t satisfied. Not even a little.

It had taken an uncomfortable moment in front of his friends to clear some things up in the most unexpected way. He had been dating a beautiful, crazy smart woman. Things were good. Until they weren’t.

Jared always had…desires that he never felt completely comfortable sharing. Dark, scary things that he wanted to do, things he longed to see, things he burned to hear. He shoved them down for awhile, out of sight but not out of mind, then turned to porn. That turned him on and horrified him in equal measure - free time spent surreptitiously watching people being spanked then flogged then whipped.

He’d been having a football party one weekend and he forgot himself in the excitement of a close game. See, it wasn’t only the pain he craved, it was control. He was brutally aware how being controlling in a relationship could end. He’d seen first hand the kind of damage that could do to the other partner, and he was determined to never put anyone through that. His iron grip slipped sometimes though, and he found himself mid-order more and more as he got more comfortable with someone. It was a problem.

For his girlfriend at that time, it was a _big_ problem. He hadn’t even noticed he’d done anything until she called him into the kitchen and really let him have it. He apologized, but couldn’t help feeling he’d broken them beyond repair. When he’d stepped back into the living room, his friend Mark was looking at him with concern. Jared smiled and tried to pretend nothing had happened.

Mark was the last to leave, and Jared could tell he wanted to talk about what had happened. Jared was dreading it, but he shouldn’t have. That was the night Jared learned the truth about the BDSM lifestyle and that porn was often the worst place to go to actually learn about anything. Mark gave him information, resources and hope.

He wasn’t fucked up. What he craved most wasn’t vile and shameful. He was Dom.

He learned everything he could, met people who taught him even more. He watched, he listened, and he learned. He never looked back.

Finding his place in the world wasn’t a guarantee of an amazing relationship, though. Far from it actually. He was sadistic but didn’t like humiliation; caring like a Daddy Dom but loved making his subs cry. He met many amazing people on his journey, but had yet to find the one he wanted by his side for longer than a scene or two.

He wasn’t actively looking, but he was open to it when it came his way.

Little did he know it would be the very next day.

Jensen Ackles was beautiful. He was tall and broad and if he wasn’t a model it had to be because he had been in some cult somewhere and never went out in public. Surely any agent that saw him would have snapped him up immediately. Jared knew he was staring but couldn’t quite bring himself to stop.

He could see Jeffrey Dean Morgan, the owner of Percussion, raise an eyebrow at him just out of the corner of his eye. He chose to ignore him and concentrate on the man coming his way. Jared had never seen Jensen before and he’d been coming to Percussion for a long time. He would have remembered. Boy, would he have remembered.

Jensen passed by close enough that Jared could feel the heat of his skin in the crowded room. Jensen caught his eye and smiled at him as he went by, and Jared could feel a slow pounding rhythm start in the base of his skull. He watched as Jensen greeted Jeffrey with a long hug and some low whispered words. He wondered idly what their relationship was and if Jensen was a Dom or a sub. _Please be a sub_, he thought to himself. _And unattached_.

Jeffrey said something to Jensen and nodded toward Jared. Jared perked up, paying close attention as they made their way over the short distance toward him.

“Jensen, this is Jared. He’s one of our more experienced Doms and gives a lot of our demonstrations.”

“Hi Jared, Jensen Ackles.”

“Nice to meet you, pretty.”

Jensen froze. It was just a split second, but Jared was used to being hyper focused on someone he was interesting in or was sceneing with. Sometimes, a fleeting glance of something could be the only indication something wasn’t right or the sub was uncomfortable. Jared immediately let go of Jensen’s hand and stepped back to give him room.

Jensen had already started to do the same, but stopped when he noticed that Jared had beat him to it. Jared could see calculation in Jensen’s eyes. He was clearly assessing Jared, and though he wasn’t sure exactly what had caused Jensen discomfort - Jared could have come on too strong, or Jensen could just naturally be reserved, especially if he were new to the life.

JDM chatted a little to Jared and Jensen in turn, and Jensen was excruciatingly polite to Jared. There were sparks of interest from Jensen as Jared talked about his hometown in Texas and his job, but Jensen remained distant and deferential. Jared didn’t push.

Once Jensen excused himself to go visit someone else in the club, Jared turned to JDM. Before he’d even opened his mouth, though, Jeffrey was talking.

“It’s not my place, boy, so don’t ask. In fact, it’s not your place to ask. Me or anyone else.”

“Understood. I just… I feel like there’s something about him. Something I’m real interested in.”

“I know exactly what you’re interested in, Padalecki, and I’m not saying don’t. I’m just saying don’t push it. Jensen is like my son. You are too, come to think of it, but we’ll leave that aside for now. That brings up all kinds of things I’d rather not think about.”

Jared snorted. “I won’t push. I promise. I’d never do that.”

JDM rapped his knuckles against the bar top and walked off.

Jared found Jensen in the crowd and approached him. He was standing in one of the demonstration areas watching a woman create beautiful and complicated patterns with knots, strong rope and a willing bottom. He smiled briefly at Jared as he stopped beside him and Jared asked him hesitantly if he’d like a drink.

Jensen was silent for long enough that Jared could feel the pressure of the very air around them pushing down onto his skin. Jared felt like it was a much bigger deal than just a drink, though he had no idea why. His breath caught and held and he studiously avoided looking at Jensen.

“Yeah. That would be nice. I’ll have a whiskey.”

Jared let out his breath with a whoosh and smiled at Jensen. “Be right back.”

JDM handed him two glasses before Jared even said a word and pointed very deliberately at him. Jared understood. He headed back to Jensen, pushing past people to get where he wanted to be. Jensen smiled and, for a moment, everything in Jared’s world was right.

Slowly, Jensen started talking to Jared. He commented on the demonstration in front of them, and suggested that they move on to the next after a few minutes. Jared had to hide his smile at being included in Jensen’s circuit of the club floor.

They made their own observations at each stage, and Jared realized quickly that Jensen was not, after all, new to the life. He was clearly familiar with what was going on in each demonstration, and even stepped up to whisper something to one of the Doms, which caused him to approach his sub and adjust something just slightly. From the relief on the subs face, it was a small but very important adjustment. The Dom nodded to Jensen in thanks and Jensen smiled in return.

Jared wondered for about the hundredth time since he’d met Jensen if he were a Dom or a sub. There were times when Jared could see traces of alpha behavior in Jensen - like when someone was hitting on a clearly owned sub or Jensen had gotten shoved by someone who was clearly not paying attention to the people around them.

There were also times when he could have sworn that he saw longing in Jensen’s eyes when he watched the demonstrations. He’d lingered over the shibari scene the longest so far, his eyes firmly on the bottom and the rigger’s elegant swift fingers. They weren’t the hungry glances of someone who wanted to own, to dominate, but the almost sad gaze of someone who missed being on the receiving end.

Jared found he wasn’t really all that concerned whether Jensen was a sub or not. He felt a connection with him he hadn’t felt in a long time. Whether Jensen ended up being a friend or more than that, Jared could already tell he could be very important to Jared. He just hoped that Jensen felt the same.

He and Jensen were talking about their favorites - sports teams, food, bands. Jared was distracted by the flash of Jensen’s green eyes and the warm, sweet smoky scent of him and his cologne that it took him a minute to realize something wasn’t right. They’d wandered to the next stage where a tiny woman was showing the proper way to cane a writhing, screaming sub.

Jared had always been partial to the flogger - there were so many different types they had one to appeal to most any Dom or sub. Whips were a good choice for most anyone as well, but nothing could beat the solid thunk of a well knotted flogger. He’d turned to ask Jensen what his preference was, but Jensen wasn’t paying him any attention.

His eyes were glued to the cane. He followed the arc of the thin, flexible rod as it whistled through the air. When the sub stiffened and screamed, his voice already hoarse and gravely from overuse, Jensen went ashen and pale. Jared carefully and slowly reached out for him, and Jensen clamped a hand to Jared’s arm before Jared could touch him.

“Jensen…”

Jared could feel the desperate strength behind Jensen’s grip and the tremors that were setting in the longer Jensen stood, eyes locked to the scene before them.

“Jensen, let’s go…”

“Yes, yes. Go. That’s a good idea. I need to go.”

With that, Jensen turned and fled. Jared could only watch him go, fear growing in the pit of his stomach. When Jared saw Jensen gather his coat at the check and leave the club, he went in search of Jeffrey.

He explained what happened, but very carefully didn’t ask if Jeffrey knew what had caused Jensen to be so upset and clearly sad. He could tell by the quickly shuttered sorrow in Jeffrey’s eyes that he knew and that it might be worse than Jared had been imagining.

He closed his eyes for a moment and pulled his business card out of his pocket. “Do me a favor, Jeff,” Jared said as he scribbled on the back. “Give Jensen my number, okay?”

Jeff stiffened slightly, but Jared continued without giving him a chance to speak. “This isn’t me pushing. This is me trying to be a friend.”

Jeff snorted, but Jared wasn’t having it.

“No, listen to me, Jeff. You didn’t see him back there. Now, I don’t know if you’ve seen him that way before or not, but I didn’t like it. Not one bit. He just…” Jared trailed off then continued in a near whisper. “It was like he was a completely different person, Jeff. Someone scared. Someone broken.”

Jeff busied himself with cleaning the bar top in front of him, but he tucked Jared’s card into his shirt pocket. Jared turned to go, but Jeff’s hand on his bicep stopped him.

“Jensen isn’t broken,” Jeff said. “There isn’t a thing about that boy that needs to be fixed. You understand me?”

“I’m not looking to fix him, Jeff. You can count on that.”

“I’m trusting you, Padalecki. Don’t let me down.”

“I won’t.”

Jeff nodded. “I’ll give it to him, but I won’t promise you he’ll call.”

“I know, Jeff.”

“And I don’t want you looking for him either, you understand? He’ll find you if he wants to.”

Jared was starting to get angry. Jeff had just told him that he looked at both of them as his own boys, but it sure didn’t seem like he thought much of Jared with as much as he was warning Jared to stay away from Jensen.

When he said as much, Jeff reached out for him again. “I don’t mean it like that,” he said. “I really don’t. Jensen is just…” He stopped. “He’s been through a lot,” he finished, “and he doesn’t need any more right now.”

Jared nodded and left the club, his mood darkening by the moment.

Whatever it was that Jensen had been through, Jared wasn’t about to add to it. He wanted him, there was no doubt about that, but the things running through his head that might have happened to Jensen were becoming darker and more vivid every moment.

He’d only known Jensen for a few hours, but the man had thoroughly captured Jared’s attention. He could only hope he’d had some sort of effect on Jensen, as well.

Sleep that night was a long time coming.

**

There was a text waiting for him the next morning. Jensen wanted to meet later for a drink and a ball game on a big screen at one of the better sports bars. It took Jared almost an hour to settle on the clothes he wanted to wear, trying on and discarding shirts and pants like he was going to meet the Queen of England.

Were khakis too formal? Were those jeans too tight? Would it look like he was showing off if he wore that low cut tshirt? _Should_ he be showing off? He finally settled on one of his nicer pairs of jeans and a tight fitting tshirt.

Jensen was dressed similarly in soft jeans and a henley that did ridiculous things for his chest and arms. Other than some of what Jared assumed had to be awkward staring when he realized he’d forgotten exactly how attractive Jensen really was, they were seated and arguing over sports in no time. It was one of the best first dates (you couldn’t blame him for being hopeful, okay?) he could remember having.

The night was both too short and seemed longer than he’d ever imagined.

No one could ever say Jensen wasn’t a fighter. He’d let his guard down before and had paid for it - with a body full of scars and dreams full of fear and fury and pain. He’d learned his lesson in just about as hard a way as anyone could, but he learned it well and he wasn’t about to forget it. But…

There was something about Jared Padalecki that made Jensen want to forget, though. And wasn’t that just the way of things for him? He’d been anticipating meeting him when Jeff pointed him out, and he could tell from the look in the man’s eye he was interested too.

The man was tall and beautiful - and then called Jensen pretty right out of the gate. If there was anything he could have done that was more wrong than that, Jensen couldn’t think of it. He’d stiffened and started to pull away, but noticed that Jared had beat him to it. He was clearly not only aware he’d done something Jensen didn’t like, but had moved to immediately rectify it.

Jensen relaxed, but didn’t hang around for too much conversation afterwards, mostly because he really, really wanted to. Jared approached him as he was making the circuit of the floor demonstrations, and Jensen decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. It had been worth it.

As they walked the floor, he and Jared talked. They had a lot in common and Jared seemed to be a genuinely nice person. Jensen saw several people he knew but hadn’t seen in a long time and braced himself for questions, but they were merely happy to see him. He suddenly missed the life like breathing.

He hadn’t been hiding, exactly, more like hibernating - tucking his tattered flesh around him and healing himself the best he could. He knew there was plenty of help for him if he needed it, but he felt it was something he needed to do on his own. Stepping back into a BDSM club was a huge step in his recovery, but he was certain Percussion would be the safest place for him to take his next step.

Everything was going beautifully - until he and Jared came upon an impact play demonstration and the Domme was using a cane.

Jensen had never particularly liked a cane, much preferring a wide paddle or heavy flogger. Even a whip ranked more highly for him than the stinging, potentially skin destroying cane. After his last Dom made it painfully clear he loved the cane itself more than he cared about leaving bruises that lasted for weeks on Jensen, Jensen began to rethink their relationship.

When he left Jensen with a bruised kidney and more scars than Jensen cared to think about because Jensen had the nerve to try to leave him, Jensen swore to never come in contact with a cane again. No one would find it strange that he flipped out then, when he found himself confronted with a screaming bottom covered in red strike marks.

Jared had suggested he go, and Jensen had fled from the club. It had taken him two hours to calm down once he got home. Once he had, he remembered Jared and figured that was it for them, then. No way Jared would still be interested after that.

When he’d returned Jeff’s worried call though, he found out that Jared had left his number. Jensen called.

*

He and Jared got along like gangbusters. It was like they’d known each other for years instead of merely days. They went to lunches, dinners, bars, movies, stores and anything else they felt like doing.

Jared didn’t make a move, and Jensen didn’t either, though he was pretty sure it was just a matter of time until he did. Jared was turning out to be someone he could see himself leaving his self-imposed exile for. He just needed a little more time.

As they had gotten closer, they began to hang out at each other’s homes. Jensen met Jared’s parents. Jared talked to Jensen’s mother for nearly an hour simply because he happened to answer Jensen’s phone when she called. They were quickly becoming the best of friends.

Jared was a natural Dom. He always did his best to respect people and their lines whether they were in the life or not, and he tried to keep his need for control to a minimum around people he didn’t have an agreement with. He tried.

But Jensen was clearly a submissive and one Jared wanted to make his own. As they got closer, Jared would find himself domming Jensen without even meaning to. He would encourage Jensen to eat better and to go to bed earlier if he’d had a particularly hard time at work or started to yawn earlier than Jared thought was right. Jared’s hand found the perfect spot on Jensen’s back as they walked and Jared had to stop himself from growling like a junkyard dog whenever Jensen was inevitably hit on while they were out.

He always stopped when he noticed he was doing it, but that was becoming more and more often as time went on, and he was terrified that Jensen was going to get tired of him being so pushy. He didn’t know if he should bring it up or just let it go on the off chance that Jensen hadn’t noticed it.

From Jensen’s bemused or quietly amused face as he figured out what Jared was doing, he was just going to assume things were fine.

One day, Jared was checking his email at Jensen’s house and was reminded about Percussion’s annual masquerade ball. He hesitantly brought it up to Jensen.

Jensen smiled behind his coffee cup at Jared taking such care with bringing up something that would potentially upset him. The smile disappeared though when he realized it actually wasn’t as upsetting as he expected it to be. He thought about it for a moment and Jared very studiously pretended to nonchalantly continue checking his email like he didn’t care one way or another.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I want to, but it’s been a long time, and…” He trailed off and Jared looked up when he went quiet.

“I understand, Jensen. Just let me know if you make up your mind and want to go together.”

“Isn’t the point of a masquerade party that everyone is anonymous?”

“Well, sure,” Jared laughed, “but everyone knows who everyone is anyway.”

“Well, clearly we’ll all know who you are, Sasquatch,” Jensen said. “There can’t be that many people as tall as you are hanging around.”

“There are a couple, thank you very much.”

“Still. Bet I’d know you right away.”

“Well, then you should probably come,” Jared said. “We’ll see if that’s true or not.”

Jensen couldn’t pinpoint a moment, but if there was a single one, this was it. Jared was laughing at some insult Jensen had hurled at him, his head back, hair flowing over his nape to brush his back. Jensen had been gone long enough.

He was going to the ball.

**

Jared was nervous. He felt like a fool, but he’d gone all out for this year’s masquerade ball. He’d chosen tight satiny pants and a long intricate open vest with a stand up collar. He’d initially felt like they had a bit of an old world feel - just a touch of fancy to match the ornate mask he’d tied and pinned to his long hair.

The closer he got to Percussion, the more he regretted his choice, sure he was going to stand out like a sore thumb. When he got there though, he realized that wasn’t the case at all. Costumes ranged from naked subs holding masks up to their faces to a dramatic brocade outfit complete with a flowing cape.

Jared took a deep breath and stepped inside, trying to tell himself he wasn’t looking for Jensen, but growing more disappointed as the night went on and Jensen didn’t show. What neither he nor anyone else knew was that Jensen had been there for hours.

He got there when he knew the crowd would be the thickest. When there was less chance of him being found out. He’d worn a simple outfit of dark dress slacks, a loose shirt and a fitted vest. His mask covered the entire top part of his head and all of his face. He carried a hand fan to further assist him in staying anonymous. The fan was printed with the words _I am silent tonight_.

He almost left about ten times, but he stuck it out, and soon enough it was time for Jared’s demonstration in impact play. When he asked for a volunteer to be his bottom, Jensen found himself stepping forward without a second thought. It was only after Jared accepted that he began to question his sanity for even being at the blasted masquerade to begin with.

Jared asked him a few questions, making sure they were yes or no answers after Jensen showed him his fan.

“I want to do a bit of caning for our demonstration. Are you alright with that?”

There was a split second of hesitancy, then the man nodded his head in agreement.

“I’m going to cane your ass, thighs and the soles of your feet. Are you alright with that?”

The man nodded again, more determined than before.

“We have a table you can rest on while I work or the cross. Make your choice and move beside it.”

There was no hesitancy this time, and the man moved directly to the table. If Jared had known who it was, he wouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest. There was no way that Jensen was ready to be restrained to a St. Andrew’s cross while he was being caned.

“Excellent,” Jared said. “You are not to move while the session is going on. Do you need to be restrained to help you to obey?”

The man shook his head quickly.

“Okay. Strip and climb on the table. Lie perfectly still.”

Jensen could hear Jared talking to the crowd, and he began to drift. He was terrified but determined but he could feel himself starting to panic. He pushed it away and concentrated on what Jared was saying instead.

“There are different sizes and styles of canes,” he was saying. “The size of the cane and the strength of your blows will determine what sensation your bottom will experience. A larger cane and a slower swing can draw out the pain and anticipation of your bottom. It can be a deeper kind of hit,” he continued, “but that’s also something you need to be mindful of.

“Heavy canes and hard hits should never be used on vulnerable areas like the genitals or breasts. While you can cane those places, it is critical that you take care with what you’re doing. A heavy cane can leave bruises that linger for weeks if you aren’t careful, and there are certain places you should never cane at all.”

Jensen hummed to himself when Jared got to this part, knowing he’d been caned in almost every one of them. He had his eyes closed so he didn’t see Jared select a medium sized cane that he checked for cleanliness, sturdiness and flexibility.

“Today I will be using this cane to show you how to moderate and vary your strikes for maximum impact, as well as where you should and should not strike your bottom.” Jared walked over to Jensen who was resting his head on his arms and doing his best to keep calm.

“Since you are silent tonight,” Jared said to Jensen, “I want you to hold onto this handkerchief. It is a bright red and I want you to hold it with your arm outstretched here.” Jared positioned the man where he wanted him. “This will be your safety measure,” he said. “If you drop it, I will stop. Understand?”

Jensen nodded.

“The first time you drop it, I will ask you if you are okay and if you want to stop. If it was on purpose, the scene will stop immediately. If it was an accident, we’ll go again. If you drop it a second time, the scene will stop immediately.”

Jensen nodded again in understanding.

“If I want to stop the demonstration at any time, I’ll say Poughkeepsie. That is my safeword. Do you understand?”

Jensen nodded.

Jared walked around the sub, checking that the table was secure and the sub was comfortable. It was only after he’d checked the last leg of the table that the man’s body began to register with Jared.

“You have to be aware of your bottom’s body,” Jared was saying. “You need to know if they have any previous injuries or if they’re feeling bad. Nothing will ruin a scene faster than your sub throwing up on you unexpectedly.” As Jared talked, he was lifting Jensen’s leg and inspecting the soles of his feet.

As he moved up, still talking to the crowd, what he was seeing really started to sink in. Scars lined the bottom’s back and ass and thighs. Jared drew in a sharp breath as he took in the true extent of the old wounds on the bottom’s body.

Jared stepped close and bent low over the sub’s head. “Are you sure you want to do this?” The sub had clearly volunteered, but Jared remembered the slight hesitation when he found out Jared would be caning him.

The man paused for a moment then nodded.

Jared took him at his word. “We will now begin.”

Jared laid the cane against the skin of the man’s ass to both let him feel the size of the cane and to see how he would react. He tensed initially, but then deliberately relaxed, breathing deeply and slowly.

Jared waited in silence for several seconds, then brought the cane down across the man’s ass. He cried out, a sharp punch of breath before he silenced himself, his muscles tensing against the pain before he forced them to loosen.

Jared normally would have appreciated the red lash marks littering the man’s ass and legs, but he was finding it difficult to over look the scars on the man’s body. He brought the cane down again and again on the bottom’s flesh, but couldn’t stop himself from comparing each strike to the scars underneath it.

He struck again, and the flesh split this time, soft like ripe fruit swelling with sweet juice. He faltered at the sight of the sub’s blood, his next hit falling just ever so slightly off its mark. He couldn’t get the sub’s sounds of pain and distress out of his head and he found himself wondering what he sounded like when he got all those scars.

He couldn’t land the next hit with that thought in his head so he took a beat, told the crowd about varying the pace to surprise the sub, keep them from knowing exactly when the next hit would come and struck once more, right on the fleshy part under the buttocks that many subs hated more than anything.

He’d been telling the crowd things to know this whole time he was pretty sure, about the sciatic nerve and joints and places on the body to avoid. About how dangerous wrapping could be and how they had to know where and how the whole length of the cane would land to make sure nothing bad happened. About how it was critical to listen to their bottom to make sure they weren’t in distress but unwilling to end the scene.

With the last strike, the sub cried out again, sharper this time than it had been before, and Jared opened his mouth to safeword - to protect not only the sub but himself against this strange uneasy space he’d been in since he saw the stark reminders of only a part of what this man must have gone through.

He didn’t get so much as a sound out though, because the bottom’s hand was opening, the blood red of the handkerchief falling to the ground to pool like blood underneath him. Jared rushed to him, the cane falling unheeded to the ground.

“Do you want to stop the demonstration,” Jared asked, his voice shaky and thin.

Unexpectedly, the man answered him. “Yes,” he croaked. “Jared, yes.”

And Jared took a step back. He knew that voice. He’d dreamed about that voice.

“Jensen,” he whispered. “Jensen what the fuck?”

Jared had deliberately chosen to do a caning demonstration because of Jensen and the way he’d reacted the last time they were at Percussion. It was a huge risk and he knew it. He hadn’t pried into Jensen’s past or life any further than Jensen had invited him into it, and he’d respected every boundary Jensen had set for himself and anyone around him.

Jared had hoped that Jensen would see him - a close friend and hopefully someone he trusted - caning a willing bottom and that it would help to erase at least some of whatever had upset Jensen so badly before. Suddenly, the memory of the scars that littered the man-_Jensen’s_ body rose up and slammed Jared full force in the gut. It was all he could do not to vomit.

Jensen rose slowly, and Jared became aware of the crowd, silent and respectful, the only sound the shuffling of feet and the low music in the background.

“Sometimes,” Jared started, having to clear his throat to continue, “sometimes one of you will need to stop your scene.” He could see Jensen shuffling toward his clothes out of the corner of his eyes. “When that happens, stop immediately. Verify they are indeed using their safety measure and stop the scene. They will still need aftercare,” Jared said, as if to himself. “Take care of them and talk to them about why they used their safety and what might be changed to avoid that situation in the future.

“Thank you for your attention and enjoy the rest of the party!”

Jared’s hands shook as he helped Jensen gather his clothes before he snatched the cane off the floor, the bits of blood on it filling Jared with equal parts sadness, confusion and anger. A bloodied cane really should be used only on the person who bled on it, particularly in public spaces, so the club kept plenty on hand. Jared threw it in the biohazard container as quickly as he could and ushered a dazed Jensen into a back room.

“Jared,” Jensen started.

Jared held up a hand to stop him, working efficiently to check the wounds on Jensen’s ass and thighs and to try to make Jensen as comfortable as possible. He got him water out of the small fridge that was in every room and offered him a snack before coming to stand in front of him again.

“Would you like to dress?” Jared asked carefully, “and would you like my help?”

“Please,” Jensen said.

Jared helped Jensen dress, hands shaking as he stabilized him so he could pull on his pants and gripping his shoulders after he’d slid Jensen’s shirt back on over them.

“I wanted to show you I was ready,” Jensen said. “I wanted _to be_ ready.”

“I was going to safeword,” Jared commented.

“What?”

“When you dropped that hanky, I was a second away from saying it.”

“Oh, Jared.”

“I just…the - your scars.”

Jensen stiffened.

“They kept getting all twisted up in my head with the hits I was giving you.”

Jensen’s eyes flew to Jared in horror. “I didn’t…I’m sorry, Jared. I didn’t think anything about that. They’re…I don’t even notice them much anymore.” Jensen strode to Jared and made Jared look at him. “I’m sorry, Jared. I should have told you.”

“Yeah,” Jared said. “First time I’ve almost safeworded.” Jared leaned into Jensen. “How about we don’t do this again,” Jared said.

Jensen nodded, resigned. “Why did you pick caning?”

“I was hoping it would help to see someone you know doing it.”

“It probably wouldn’t have.”

“I see that now. Sorry,” Jared added. “We’re really kind of bad at this, aren’t we?”

Jensen dragged Jared to the comfortable cozy looking sofa in the corner and encouraged him to sit. When he did, Jensen climbed slowly into his lap, wincing as the movement and the fabric of his underwear and pants rubbed against his painful flesh.

“I think we’re pretty good at this actually,” he said casually. “Could be better, though,” he acknowledged.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Kiss me, Jared. Then we’ve got a lot of talking to do.”

Jared had never taken an order more quickly.

"You like that don’t you, slut?" Jared asked in a low voice. When he failed to answer, Jared slapped Jensen’s abused ass - hard. "Answer me."

"Yes sir," Jensen gasped.

Jensen’s hands were bound above him, the stretch and pull on the muscles of his inner arms and sides not painful but just enough to remind him that they could be if his Dom wanted. His body bowed and the ropes chafed, rough around his wrists as Jared fucked into him. He was blind so the random slap to his bruised ass was just as shocking as all the others had been.

He had struggled with trust for the last few months especially, still did, as a matter of fact. Probably would for awhile. This was the first time he hadn’t safeworded when Jared blindfolded him. Jensen had gotten frustrated with himself more each time, but Jared had all the patience in the world.

Jensen screamed as Jared entered him roughly with nothing but a light sheen of lube covering Jared’s cock. He’d left his jeans on and the heavy material scraped hard and painful against Jensen’s abraded, torn skin.

Jared rutted inside him, chasing his own pleasure and Jensen was just pleased to be used. He felt like he had purpose. He felt like he was home.

When Jared bent him nearly double, hauling him up so he could take a paddle to the back of Jensen’s thigh whenever he wanted to, all Jensen could do was beg for more.

And even blind, with his hands wrapped in the ropes that bound him to the wall, Jensen realized - he had never felt more free.


End file.
